100 Showtunes: The Podcast

Donald Butchko

This project will use a series of playlists to guide you through 100 essential Broadway songs and their iconic musicals. Posts from 100Showtunes.com, read aloud! www.100showtunes.com

  1. 1d ago

    No. 49. “Wig in a Box”

    Spring 1998. This is one of the strongest Broadway seasons in recent memory, with The Lion King, Ragtime, and the new revival of Cabaret. But you’ve been hearing murmurs that the coolest new show in town is actually playing in the ballroom of an old hotel in the West Village. So you’re checking out Hedwig and the Angry Inch. The venue feels more like a grungy club than a theater, with a mostly bare stage save for a band and their instruments. A character named Yitzhak, played by a woman in male drag, kicks off the show by announcing “Ladies and gentlemen, whether you like it or not—Hedwig!” Enter Hedwig, in an incredible wig with two large curls reaching up on either side of the head like some sort of laurel leaves, proclaiming “Don’t you know me? I’m the new Berlin Wall! Try and tear me down!” before launching into a punk rock opening number. As the practically one-person show proceeds, Hedwig talks candidly with the audience in between musical performances that range from angry rock to philosophical ballads based on Plato to rockabilly. The performance is occasionally interrupted when Hedwig opens the theater’s back door, taking in muffled strains of a nearby Tommy Gnosis concert. (Gnosis is a famous rock star who is also Hedwig’s former lover and collaborator). Hedwig’s stories cover her childhood as Hansel in occupied East Berlin. As a young adult, Hansel meets an American GI who encourages Hansel to start wearing women’s clothes and then go through surgery so the couple could marry and move to Kansas as husband and wife. The “sex change operation was botched,” and a year after moving to America, Luther leaves Hedwig just as the Berlin Wall comes down. Rather than dwelling on the notion that had she waited a year she would have been free to leave Berlin without resorting to drastic measures, Hedwig looks into her wardrobe and creates a new radically independent and individual persona (“Wig in a Box”). Catch up with all the songs to date! This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.100showtunes.com

  2. Jul 30

    No. 48. “This is the Moment”

    Summer 1997. You’re seeing Jekyll & Hyde. A friend of yours, a self-proclaimed “Jekkie,” has been hyping up this show’s concept album for years and has traveled to see it several times during its prolonged pre-Broadway tour. So if nothing else, you’re curious. It’s set in a prog-rock version of Victorian England and could really be called Emma & Jekyll & Lucy & Hyde. Yes, there’s a scientist with a homicidal alter-ego, but the romantic attentions of two women carry just as much focus. Dr. Henry Jekyll is an upstanding ponytailed scientist developing a serum that would separate one’s good and evil natures. He implores the board of the local mental hospital to allow him to test the serum on patients, but they have the gall to think it’s a bad idea. At least Emma, Jekyll’s headstrong and pure fiancé, believes in him and spends most of the show defending “his work.” With mental patients a no go, Jekyll moves on to plan b—prostitutes. He meets Lucy at the local brothel/cabaret. (She’s played by Linda Eder, who sings like Streisand has been involved with the show—and its composer, romantically—for the past seven years.) Realizing he won’t be able to experiment on ladies of the night either, Jekyll accepts that the only option is serve as his own test subject. Before injecting himself for the first time, he sings the show’s signature (and ubiquitous) anthemic ballad, “This is the Moment.” Catch up with all the songs to date! This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.100showtunes.com

  3. Jul 16

    No. 47. “I’m Still Here”

    Spring 1971. You’re at Follies, Stephen Sondheim, Harold Prince, and Michael Bennett’s follow-up to Company. The opinions of both critics and acquaintances has been so mixed, you can’t imagine how they were all watching the same show. (Though everyone agrees that the poster is absolutely incredible.) The setting is the ficticious “Weismann Theater,” which held an annual Follies (à la Zigfield) in the years between the wars. (So, 30-40 years ago). Weisman is hosting a reunion of the former Weisman Girls on the eve of his theater’s demolition. The set is a literal pile of rubble. Or rather several deliberate piles of rubble mixed with scaffolding that moves in and out to create different configurations, with actors walking or riding above, around, and through. Two couples emerge as the evening’s protagonists: The wealthy and influential Stones (Ben and Phyllis) and their less glamorous counterpart, the Plummers (Buddy and Sally). Though their lives diverged, at one time Phyllis and Sally were friends and costars in the Weisman Follies with Ben and Buddy as their stagedoor Johnnies. Past and present co-exist here, with another quartet of actors playing younger versions of the couples, bringing haunting memories, and conflicts, back to life. All of the guests at the reunion have ghostly doppelgängers, and the score straddles both eras, mixing older pastiche numbers with more contemporary songs about the present-day conflicts. At times, you can see why some are calling this the greatest musical ever presented. The staging and the design is simply spectacular. It moves fluidly, and frequently, between a dozen characters in multiple time spans—sometimes you get caught up in it like a fabulous fever dream. But other times, You can see why some are calling it an insufferable slog. You’re occasionally confused as to who is talking, where/when they’re supposed to be, and why you’re supposed to care. Nor are you really rooting for the Stones or the Plummers, who seem miserable for entirely self-created circumstances. Among the many side characters is Carlotta, one of Wiseman’s biggest talents who had success in the early days of television and wears the remnants of her fame well. She’s played by Yvonne De Carlo—Lily Munster!—and the line between the Carlotta’s and De Carlo’s biographies seems awfully blurry. After regaling other party guests with a story about an old number that was cut years ago, she launches into a hymn of show business survival. When it starts off, you assume it’s a pastiche, but as it goes on, it feels like a much more pointed commentary on Carlotta’s (and De Carlo’s) present-day experience. (“I’m Still Here”) Catch up with all the songs to date! This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.100showtunes.com

  4. Jun 30

    No. 46. “The Impossible Dream (The Quest)”

    December, 1965. You’re closing out the year by catching THE MAN OF LA MANCHA. It’s playing at a venue that is considered “Broadway” even though it’s in the West Village, 35 blocks south of the next closest Broadway theater. You’re greeted by a stark thrust stage. After a rousing, brassy overture (seriously, are there any strings in the pit at all?) a long staircase descends from the fly space as a couple of officers in Spanish Inquisition garb bring in an older gentleman, played by the distinguished Richard Kiley, and his companion. When the guards go back up the staircase, it retracts behind them, leaving those on the ground in an inescapable prison. The older man reveals himself to be Cervantes, an idealist, poet…and tax collector who was arrested for putting a lien on a church. The other prisoners announce they will hold their own trial for Cervantes and his companion as an excuse to confiscate the new arrivals’s possessions. Those possessions turn out to be costumes, props, and scripts. (Cervantes, as it turns out, is a poet…of the theater.) Cervantes offers to present his play as a defense, and transforms himself into Don Quixote, an old man who considers himself a gallant knight, even though those haven’t existed for a few hundred years. For the rest of the evening, Cervantes recruits other prisoners to play roles in his “production” using only the tools in his trunk and whatever may be lying around. Quixote fights a windmill because he sees it as a dragon, treasures a dirty dishrag like fine gossamer, and treats a lowly barmaid (Aldonza, self-described as a “strumpet men use and forget”) as a fair lady named Dulcinea. Kiley occasionally switches back to the Cervantes persona, acting as narrator and addressing the other prisoners. Quixote remains steadfast, even as others attempt to impose their reality on his worldview. In a soaring dramatic ballad, “The Impossible Dream (The Quest),” Quixote explains how his pursuits bring him a sense of honor, even if they are unachieveable. Catch up with all the songs to date! This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.100showtunes.com

  5. Jun 11

    No. 45 “Don’t Rain on My Parade”

    June 1964. You’ve finally scored a ticket to see Funny Girl, a new musical biography of Ziegfeld/early radio star Fanny Brice. Brice isn’t really a personality that means much to you, but the young actress playing her sure does. 22-year old Barbra Streisand has already established herself as a rising supernova thanks to her scene stealing role in 1962’s I Can Get if for You Wholesale, TV appearances (including an amazing duet with Judy Garland), and two albums (the first of which recently won Grammys for Album of the Year and Best Female Vocal Performance). As a musical, Funny Girl is…adequate. But Streisand is sensational and nothing else matters much when she’s onstage. She starts as an awkward girl from Brooklyn who nonetheless believes she’s “The Greatest Star,” and you believe her! She clowns around, belts several great Jule Styne tunes (though everyone else gets decidedly less exciting material), and falls in love with inveterate gambler Nicky Arnstein. At the end of Act 1 , Arnstein runs off to play a high stakes poker game, and, despite the well-founded objections of everyone she knows, Brice decides to take a leave of absence from the Follies and follow the man she loves, telling the naysayers, “Don’t Rain on My Parade.” Catch up with all the songs to date! This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.100showtunes.com

  6. May 21

    No. 45. “Hello, Dolly!”

    Winter 1964. You’re seeing the new smash hit musical Hello, Dolly!. The production skips the overture and opens immediately on a chorus on 1880s New Yorkers instructing the audience to call on the local matchmaker before Carol Channing revealing herself as Dolly from behind a newspaper. The briskly paced farce centers on this singular creation, a widow who makes ends meet as a matchmaker (but also has a business card in her pocket offering her services for any occasion that may come up, no matter how niche or bizarre.) Quick-witted and resourceful, Dolly takes her assignment (finding a bride for Horace Vandergelder, an irracable Yonkers shop-owner), and completely subverts it, setting up machinations that will land Horace for herself while leading to love for two of his clerks and a pair of milliners. Channing is so endearing as Dolly that you are completely on her side for all of these schemes, which are set converge at The Harmonia Gardens, a restaurant Dolly frequented with her late husband. The head waiter hears that Dolly will be in attendance and instructs the waitstaff to speed up service, launching a dazzling comedic display of leaps and gags. But all comes to a standstill when Dolly arrives standing atop a grand staircase in a stunning red gown beginning the most spectacular production number you’ve ever seen. (“Hello, Dolly”) Catch up with all the songs to date! This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.100showtunes.com

  7. Apr 29

    No. 42. “Rose’s Turn”

    Summer 1959. You’re attending Gypsy: a musical fable, based on the memoirs of famed burlesque performer Gypsy Rose Lee. But the show’s driving force is her determined and domineering mother, Rose Havoc, played by Ethel Merman. After one of the most thrilling overtures you’ve ever heard, the curtain rises on a group of adorable kids auditioning for a vaudeville act. Merman barges into the scene, shouting “Sing out, Louise!” as she walks down the aisle carrying a dog. Her daughters—the cloying Baby June and her meek older sister, Louise—are among those auditioning, and Rose will not let anything or anyone curtail their rise to stardom. She finds a patient partner, Herbie, who tries to bring some stability as Rose builds a traveling act for June (who Rose insists is a child even as she enters early adulthood) and some dancing “newsboys” (one of whom is the timid Louise). When June and the newsboys bail on the act, Rose pivots her attention to Louise without much success. When they hit rock bottom (a burlesque house in Wichita), Louise does a strip as a last minute replacement, beginning her transformation into “Gypsy Rose Lee”. As she becomes more successful than she or Rose could have hoped, Louise resents Rose’s continued meddling, and the two have a climactic argument in her star dressing room. Rejected and resentful, Rose ruminates on the sacrifices she made for her daughters and the stardom she always wanted for herself in an epic mad scene of a song. (“Rose’s Turn”). Catch up with all the songs to date! This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.100showtunes.com

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This project will use a series of playlists to guide you through 100 essential Broadway songs and their iconic musicals. Posts from 100Showtunes.com, read aloud! www.100showtunes.com